


How Did I Get Here?

by the_technicolor_whiscash



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Parties, heavily book inspired, i... don’t know, regency au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 22:36:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19799149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_technicolor_whiscash/pseuds/the_technicolor_whiscash
Summary: It’s the early 1800’s, and Crowley has decided that he’s going to sleep through the century. However, he wants to go out with one last hurrah, attending one last dramatic party before he goes to sleep. This quickly turns into several parties, and before he knows it, he’s gone in quite over his head.





	How Did I Get Here?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so super fun fact I’m addicted to historical au’s and also the fact that Crowley slept through most of the 19th century in book canon  
> If you’ve only seen the show you can get by just fine but just know that yeah in the book he canonically does sleep through the whole damn century only getting up once to go pee. We love a legend.

It was the early 1800’s. A perfectly normal time, filled with perfectly normal people. A bit of tension amongst the rich and poor, given the recently ended revolution in France, but then again, there was always tension. The outfits were grand, the hair even grander, and hedonism was running wild. 

Crowley, however, wasn’t quite so happy as he strolled the halls of his rather large house. It was located in the English countryside, and he had convinced his neighbors that he was a rich, eccentric Earl who was more than worthy of being invited to parties. And it was fun, for a while, until it wasn’t. Now, Crowley was contemplating just settling down and taking a nap for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t like hell would notice. He would just have Aziraphale fill out his paperwork for him. 

Ah, Aziraphale. He hadn’t seen the angel since they had last had lunch in the height of the French Revolution. It was nice. They had crepes, and gotten pleasantly wine drunk on the best that France could offer. But after all that, Crowley went home alone. 

He didn’t have a problem with going home alone. He went home alone far more frequently than he went home with someone else. But he would’ve liked to have gotten to spend some more time with Aziraphale. Because, much to his own dismay, he had gotten rather attached to the angel. Too attached. 

Of course, what he told Hell was that he was tempting Aziraphale. When, in reality, that couldn’t be further from the case. He liked Aziraphale. They were friends. Sometimes, Crowley wished they were more than friends. But he quickly pushed those wishes to the side, knowing that they would likely never come to fruition, and also that it was probably not the best for a demon to be lusting after an angel. You could only bullshit hell so far. 

Crowley sat at his breakfast table, sipping coffee (black) and reading through the day’s mail. Most of it was junk, bills to pay and rich people to ignore. The only ones he actually read through were party invitations. And even then, he was only looking for the biggest, most extravagant parties to attend. One last hurrah, before sleeping through the rest of the century. 

There was only one that really struck his fancy. It was printed on the most expensive paper available, and written in gold leaf. These were people who knew how to spend, and if he remembered the name correctly, they were people who knew how to hold a rager. Parties that could last for days, with alcohol flowing from carved ice fountains and a house with more than enough room to get private business done. The family didn’t even really know most of the people they would invite, and just had their butler send invitations to the whole county. It was bound to be fun, whatever happened. 

So, Crowley decided to put on his nicest coat and go. He arrived in a black carriage drawn by a black horse, because if you’re going to have an aesthetic you might as well keep it up. He handed a footman his hat, and stepped into the frey. 

It was glorious. Hundreds of people filled the great hall and spilled into the surrounding rooms. Women lounged across couches, and men tried to look cooler than they actually were. The atmosphere was heady with the smell of alcohol, and the music was fast and dramatic. It was delightful. 

Crowley decided that his best course of action would be to get blindingly, unimaginably drunk. 

—————

“So you were in the French Revolution?” Asked a girl with a voice almost annoyingly high-pitched. “What were you doing there?”

“I had to-“ Crowley hiccuped, “had to save a friend of mine who had gotten himself in just a bit too deep.”

“Really? What happened?” Said the man accompanying the girl. He was rather ugly, but Crowley knew from the chatter that this man was one of the richest in the county. 

“Well, I managed to sneak him out of the Bastille. No easy feat, mind you.” Crowley waved around his wine glass for effect. “What we did was, and this was rather brilliant, switched his clothes with the clothes of a revolutionary. So the revolutionary got his head chopped off instead! And then we went for lunch. Mind you, I don’t like eating much, but the French, they do know how to cook.” 

“What happened to your friend? Is he here?” 

“Nah. I don’t think so, anyway. He runs a bookshop in London. Nice little place, though not really to my taste.” Crowley wondered, briefly, if he would dream of it while he napped. “I tend to prefer parties, me.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it out of France alive to tell the tale!” Said the woman. “That’ll be a story to tell the grandkids.”

It definitely wouldn’t be his grandkids. Perhaps somebody else’s. “Oh, sure.” 

“Have you got a wife, Mr…” 

“Crowley. Lord Anthony Crowley, at your service.” He bowed dramatically. “I do not have a wife, nor am I in need of one.”

“Oh, but you must let me introduce you to my friends! Surely one of them would fit your tastes.” 

Maybe for a quick go-around, sure, but Crowley was not about to settle down with a human. “Nah. Not yet. I’ve still got so much of the world to see, I’d rather not be locked down just yet.” It was a lie he had cultivated over centuries of explaining to people why he shouldn’t marry their daughters/friends/neighbors/cousins. One that tended to work well, without many questions. 

“You’ll have to settle down someday, though.”

“Yeah, but not today. I’m just here for a good time, not to find a wife.” And Crowley was feeling quite done with this conversation. He was also starting to feel rather sick to his stomach, probably from all of the wine. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d rather like to mingle.”

Crowley disappeared into the crowd before either of them could reply. He flitted into another room, setting his half-empty glass down on a table before heading out to the balcony. It was a nice little terrace, with beautifully cultivated vines encircling the railings, looking down on an elaborate hedge maze. Quite to Crowley’s taste. He leaned on the railing, letting the night air roll over him. 

Yes, this century just didn’t seem to be for him. And besides, the humans did all the work themselves. He rarely ever needed to do any actual tempting, unless Hell asked him specifically. Nipping off for a bit wasn’t going to hurt anyone. 

He thought back to the angel. Crowley had been thinking about Aziraphale a lot lately. He wondered if Aziraphale would miss him. Probably not. Aziraphale did his own thing, with little regard for what Crowley was doing. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He did always seem happy when Crowley would show up to save his hide time and again. And there was that time in Rome…

It was no good thinking like that. So, Aziraphale might miss him, but he would move on. The angel could more than take care of himself. What did Crowley care, anyway? He was a demon, Aziraphale was an angel, and they were enemies. Enemies who were fond of each other, sure, but enemies nonetheless. 

Then, Crowley threw up off the edge of the balcony. Ah. So it was the alcohol. 

He quickly sobered himself up and settled his stomach. Well, that was fun. A great last hurrah. 

He turned and walked inside. He had the butler fetch his hat, and had his carriage brought around to the front. It was time for Crowley to leave. 

As he rode away, his head leaned against the side of the carriage, he wondered exactly where he had gone wrong in life. Actually, he knew that. It was when he fell. That was where he had gone wrong. 

—————

The next morning, Crowley dragged himself out of bed. He didn’t know why. He should’ve just commenced his nap. But he didn’t want to leave off having just thrown up off the balcony of one of his rich neighbors. He wanted it to be special. And he didn’t want to go before telling the angel his plans. 

He started to write a letter. _Dear Aziraphale,_ he began. No, that wasn’t right. It didn’t fit. He miracled it away, starting again. _My dear Aziraphale,_ again wrong. Sounded too possessive. _Dearest Aziraphale,_ still bad. Far too romantic for a friendly letter. _Aziraphale,_ too formal. Too abrupt. _Angel._ There it was. Perfect. 

_Angel,_

_I am writing to inform,_ no, he scratched out inform, _tell you that I am planning on sleeping through the rest of the century. It’s not to my taste, and I’d just rather sleep through it and get it over with. It’s not because of anything anyone did. I just don’t want to bother dealing with this century, and figure I’ll just jump right into the next one. And really, what’ll I miss? Human culture moves so slowly anyways._

_Now, I’m going to need you to do a couple of things for me. First and foremost, I need you to take care of my plants. There are a lot of them. Just make sure they’re watered, and yell at them from time to time to keep them scared. Secondly, I’m going to need you to write up some reports to send to hell. Nothing too over the top, just take the claim for anything bad that happens and you should be good. I know you know how to forge my handwriting, so don’t complain. Besides, I’ll already be asleep when you get this letter._

_Finally, try not to miss me too much when I’m gone._ He miracled it away. That was far too sappy. _Finally, try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone. I won’t be there to save you, so you might have to perform a few “frivolous miracles” to get yourself out of danger. Hopefully Heaven won’t mind._

_Evilly Yours,_

_Crowley._

Crowley admired his handiwork. Not a bad letter, if he said so himself. When the ink dried, he folded it up and slid it into an envelope. But he didn’t send it right away. He decided he would have his butler mail it on the day he went to sleep. Maybe it would be later today, maybe tomorrow. He didn’t quite know. But what he knew was that he was going to be attending another party tonight, and he needed to make himself look good. He slipped the letter into his pocket, and went to get ready. 

He decided this time not to get quite so drunk. Mind you, Crowley still ingested more alcohol than the human liver could shake a stick at, but it wasn’t enough to make him sick. He was chatting up a handsome, rich bachelor whom he was considering taking somewhere a bit more private when the music started up, and the man excused himself to go dance. 

Crowley wasn’t really in the dancing mood. He stood by himself, leaning against a column, observing the crowd. Yes, hell would be proud of a night like this. Everyone getting loud, drunk, and gluttonous. 

And that was when Crowley spotted a familiar shade of blonde across the room. It couldn’t possibly be him, could it? Crowley moved through the throng of people, trying to get a glimpse. Of course, he soon managed to lose track of him. 

“Shit.” Crowley muttered to himself under his breath as he looked around, craning his neck. How hard was it to find an angel in a crowd? Clearly, harder than he had expected. 

Feeling defeated, he moved into the next room, which had significantly fewer people in it. He was considering just calling it a night, when he heard a familiar voice beside him. 

“Crowley?” 

Crowley’s face lit up. “Angel! I thought it was you. What’re you doing here?”

“The family invited me. It’s lovely to see you, my dear.” Aziraphale grinned. His face was slightly flushed, betraying that he had been drinking. “But what about you? What brings you here?”

“What, to this den of hedonism and godlessness? Free wine, mostly. And the people.” He didn’t tell Aziraphale of his plan yet. Crowley didn’t really want to tell him at all, for fear of disappointing him somehow. It was nonsense. “Perfect place for a demon to be. I don’t even have to do any work.”

“I had been hoping to see you again, when I heard you were living around these parts. Why haven’t- why haven’t you visited the bookshop?”

“I’ve been busy.” A lie. “Lots of demonic stuff to do up here. And I have quite the social calendar.”

“But you will visit sometime?” The angel looked oddly distraught. Crowley didn’t like seeing him like that. 

“Yeah. Of course. Though you know I don’t read much.”

“I know, I know. But I… look forward to our chats. It’s funny, really. Whenever you’re gone for a while, I seem to miss you.”

Crowley knew that was probably the alcohol talking, but it still made him feel fuzzy inside. “Can’t miss me too much. I’m a demon, you’re an angel. We’re supposed to be enemies.”

“I know we are supposed to. But a lot of the times, you don’t even seem that demonic.”

“I am demonic. I’m a very demonic demon.”

“I’d almost go so far to say that you’re nice.”

Crowley sighed. “Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m not nice. I’m the picture of evil.”

“You’ve saved my life how many times, now? Too many to count? And whenever I see you, you seem to be helping people.”

“I save you because who would I fight otherwise? I’m not nice. I only help people because it benefits me.”

“You, are, nice.” Aziraphale emphasized his point by poking Crowley in the chest with each word. Crowley grabbed his hand, stopping him. The angel looked up, eyes wide and dewey. 

“Say that again, and I’ll throw you out the window.”

“You wouldn’t do that. Because you’re too nice.”

Dragging Aziraphale by the hand, he burst into the next room. This room was empty, and there were only a few candles to illuminate it. Partygoers probably weren’t supposed to be in there. It was a good setting for Crowley to pin Aziraphale to the wall by his shoulders. “Shut. Up.”

“Now, my dear, I really think this is unnecessary.” Aziraphale said. He was looking oddly calm about the whole thing. 

“It’s not, because you won’t listen to me when I tell you to stop. You… you are so irritating, you know that? I’m not nice. It’s your little angelic whims rubbing off on me. I am a good demon. I get commendations for my work. And I’m not going to have an angel ruin that for me.”

“Ruin it? What, do you think I’m going to go running down to hell and tell them oh, Crowley healed a sick child today, I think he’s a rubbish demon? No! I respect your job, as I hope you respect mine. I just think you’re nice. For a demon.” 

Crowley still had the angel pinned to the wall. His forehead was nearly pressed against Aziraphale’s, and if he was being completely honest, he was currently fighting off a boner. What was it about Aziraphale that did this to him? “Just don’t go around telling people you think that. Alright?”

“Alright. I didn’t know it was something you were so sensitive over.” Crowley watched as Aziraphale’s eyes flickered between Crowley’s eyes, lips, and finally crotch. Crowley hoped that he was standing in a way that his erection wasn’t visible. But then, why had Aziraphale paused at his lips? “Crowley, what are we doing in here?”

“I’m threatening you. Like any good demon would.” He shifted, and the movement didn’t help him any. 

“Is that the only reason why you have me pinned to a wall?” 

“It’s the only reason I’ll say out loud.” Crowley’s voice fell to a hoarse whisper. 

“And I assume that’s the only answer I’m going to be getting.”

“You would assume correctly.”

“Then, if there’s nothing further,” Aziraphale once again glanced to Crowley’s crotch, “if you could let me go.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Crowley backed away. He was still very hot and bothered, and a part of him wanted to pin the angel back against the wall and show him how he really felt. But that was probably a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. 

They moved back into the other room, back amongst the crowd. The music had changed, and now a great many people were dancing. 

“Would you like to dance, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, a polite hand on Crowley’s arm. 

Crowley was not in the mood for dancing. He was in the mood for leaving. “No. In fact, I think I’m going to go.”

“Oh, really? But the party’s just started to get good. I mean, I don’t really know how to dance, but it can’t be that hard to pick up.” 

“Yes, I’m sure I don’t want to be here anymore.” 

Crowley walked away, the angel’s voice trailing after him saying something he didn’t quite catch. He half-hoped Aziraphale would follow him. But he didn’t. And Crowley went home alone.

—————

Crowley was sad and horny. The other night’s party had been a disappointment, in that he didn’t really do anything extraordinary, other than realizing he had very sexual feelings for the angel. Sexual feelings that were likely to remain unresolved, unless everybody got really cool about a lot of things really quickly. 

The letter had traveled from his pocket onto his desk, where he was currently staring at it. Perhaps he ought to revise it, given the recent change in events. 

_Angel._ That part was still good. He could keep that. 

_Sorry about the other night. I was drunk, and so were you. I probably shouldn’t be apologizing, as a demon and all, but whatever. I’d like to remain on good terms with you, especially since I’m going to need you to water my plants for roughly 90 years._

He kept most of the rest of the content the same, but added, _It’s not because of you. You haven’t done anything wrong. I just don’t like this century. I know you’re going to blame yourself, and I don’t want you to._

There. It fixed most of his problems. Anything else, well, Aziraphale could just ask him when he wakes up. 

It was sort of a dick move, to have left Aziraphale at the party without really explaining anything. But he was a demon. He was supposed to be evil. But why was he feeling so much regret in the pit of his stomach? 

Crowley decided to resolve that regret by going to yet another party. This one was outside of the county he lived in, a bit of a way’s drive, and so he would have to stay the night. Not like that was a problem. He could probably find someone to fool around with satisfactorily enough, and leave without any lasting commitments. 

All of those hopes were dashed as soon as he saw Aziraphale at the dessert table. 

_Shit._ Crowley thought. He couldn’t leave now. Perhaps he could avoid- nope, the angel had spotted him. 

“Crowley! Funny seeing you again.” Aziraphale said cheerfully. He was significantly less drunk this time. Perhaps he had forgotten most of what had happened the other night. 

“Aziraphale.” Crowley grumbled, in a failed attempt to sound amiable. 

“Buck up, it's a party. You love these.”

“Yeah, but I’m… I’m getting tired of it all. The whole party circuit. The wining, and the dining, and the entertaining. It’s lost its sparkle, you know?” 

Aziraphale frowned. “Are you alright? You seem depressed.”

“I’m not. It’s just… I don’t know. I’m tired of this century. Tired of mulling along at the same pace as everybody else.”

“What are you thinking?”

“It’s nothing. I don’t know. You know, how it’s like, in the 14th century, you wish you could’ve just snapped your fingers and sped through it? I’d like to do that with this century.”

“You can’t control time, Crowley. It’s impossible. That’s the one thing They won’t let us do. It would cause far too much meddling, I should think.”

“Not controlling time, per se. Really, what I’d like to do is take a really long nap.”

“And sleep through the rest of the century? You’d be asleep for 90 years! What if hell comes calling? What if- what about the arrangement?”

“I can deal with hell. And I was thinking, what if you just do my paperwork for me? It’s not hard, you’ve done it before. And before you say anything, I know you can forge my handwriting.”

“No.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“No! I won’t let you sleep your life away. There’s plenty to do in this century!”

“Angel, we’ve been alive for six thousand years. I’ve done basically everything a person can do.” _Except for you,_ his mind said. He stomped on that thought and threw it in the trash. “Sleeping through one century isn’t going to kill me.”

“So you’ll just leave me to do all of your work, while you nap away.” Aziraphale shook his head. “You’ll just leave me, alone, to do everything.”

“Come on. I know you’ll do a good job.”

“That isn’t the point! Have you ever thought that I might want a break too? Even though, chances are, I’m never going to take one.” 

“Why not? Why not just take a break, jet off to the stars for a quick vacation?”

“Because Heaven would notice! They’d find out, somehow, and they’d sic their wrath upon me.”

“What if they didn’t? Angel, think about it. How much does Heaven really care what you do down here? Unless you start blowing up churches, I don’t think they’re going to notice.”

“Again, that isn’t the point.”

“Then what is, pray tell?”

“Maybe I don’t want to be alone! Ninety years is a long time.”

“You’ll get over it. You’ll probably have so many friends by the end, you’ll have forgotten all about me.”

“I can’t forget about you, Crowley. You know I couldn’t.” 

Why was Aziraphale so hurt by this? Sure, Crowley could see him getting ticked off about a little extra work, but this was beyond that. “If I’d have known you’d get so angry about it, I’d have asked someone else to water my plants. Or have gotten my butler to do it. I have a butler now.”

“Oh, lovely, you’ve got a butler. You know, I take back what I said last time. You’re not nice. You’re… well, you’re a demon. I don’t know what I expected.” 

“Angel.” Aziraphale began to walk away. “Angel. Wait.” 

Aziraphale paused, not turning around. “What is it?”

“I… it’s not your fault, my whole wanting to sleep through the century thing. I know you’ll worry.”

“Once again, Crowley, it isn’t the point.” 

“Angel, please.” Crowley begged. But it was too late. Aziraphale was lost to the crowd, and Crowley was filled with regret. 

—————

“Frankly, I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.” Crowley muttered drunkenly to nobody in particular. Perhaps it was to the bottle of wine he was currently cradling in his arms. 

“I mean yes, I know he’s sensitive, but really! He should understand that I have needs too. Sometimes those needs involve sleeping for a hundred years. I- I don’t see the problem.”

The bottle of wine had been refilled several times over the course of Crowley’s moping. Chances were, he was going to throw up again if he didn’t pass out first. “He’ll be back. I know it. He always comes back. Takes a while, sometimes, but he will.” His head lolled against the back of his chair. It was an elaborate chair, set back against the wall of an elaborate room. “A-Angel.” 

Just as Crowley was contemplating sleeping in this chair, he was dragged back into the present by the sound of Aziraphale’s voice. “Really, my dear, is this necessary?”

“Angel! Listen, I don’t really understand what I’ve done, but whatever it is, I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you with some wine.”

Aziraphale eyed the bottle skeptically. “I think I’ll say no to that one. Crowley, you’re quite drunk.”

“That’s the idea, love.” 

Was it just the lighting, or did the angel blush? “You’re disrupting the other party guests. Either sober up or go to bed.”

“I’ll go to bed, but only if you come with me.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Crowley whined. 

“You know why.” Aziraphale’s eyes flickered upwards. “And besides. You’re drunk. It would be taking advantage.”

“Not to me. Not if it’s you doing the, uh, advantage-taking.”

“Absolutely not. Crowley, I’m telling you, sober up or go to bed.”

“Fi-ine. You’re no fun.” Crowley said, as he stumbled to his feet. Blimey, it was hard to walk while you were this drunk. “Where’s the stairs?”

“That way.” After a moment of watching Crowley try and fail to figure out what that meant, Aziraphale grabbed him by the arm. “Come on.”

“My knight in shining armor.” Crowley leaned against Aziraphale’s side. “Whatever happened to that armor, anyway?” 

“I still have it. It’s on display in my bookshop. You’d know that, if you ever visited.” 

“You’re so bitter! I’ll visit, if you’re so desperate.”

“I’m not desperate! I just like to see that you’re ok, is all.”

“Aww, you care about me.” Crowley buried his nose into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. 

“I’m an angel. It’s my job to care.” They made it up to Crowley’s room, and Aziraphale tried to disentangle himself from the demon, to no avail. Crowley was glued to his side. “We’ve arrived, my dear. You have to let go.” 

“No-o.”

“Yes. It’s your room.” 

“Come with me. We can cuddle!”

“No, Crowley.”

“Why not? You’re warm, and I’m a snake.”

“You’ll be perfectly warm under the covers.” 

“Tuck me in?”

“Fine.” The angel conceded. “But I’m not staying.” Aziraphale led Crowley into the elaborate bedroom, settling him down onto the bed. “This would be so much easier if you’d just sober up.”

“Between you and me, I’d much rather be drunk.” Crowley kicked off his shoes, snuggling down under the covers. 

“If you’re all set, then I’ll just go.” Aziraphale said. He started to move away, before Crowley caught his wrist. 

“Angel. Wait. Stay with me.”

“People will talk.”

“Let em. What’s a bit of snuggling between friends?”

“We’re not friends, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s voice betrayed him in the way that it wavered. “We’re simply… work acquaintances.” 

“Friends, work acquaintances, whatever you want to call it. I just don’t want to be alone right now. Please, angel.”

Aziraphale sighed, and for a moment, Crowley wondered if he were going to leave. Then, he took off his shoes, laid his jacket over a chair, and laid down beside Crowley. “If you try anything funny, I’m leaving.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m a respectable demon.” Crowley said. He threw his arm around the angel’s waist, snuggling up against his side. “You really are like a fireplace.”

“I’m not cold-blooded like you.” At Crowley’s dejected look, he added, “That’s not a comment, it’s just a fact. You are a snake, after all.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Crowley yawned, a hiss briefly escaping his mouth. “See you in the morning.”

—————

 _Ow._ Was the first thought in Crowley’s mind as he awoke the next morning. His head felt as though someone had driven a stake through it. Not only had he gotten drunk enough to convince the angel to stay the night with him, he’d also gotten drunk enough to forget to miracle away any lasting effects. Including the hangover. 

He miracled away the headache, but he still felt like shit. Not physically, but emotionally. And a little bit physically, too. 

Opening his eyes, he noticed that Aziraphale was still there, laying beside him. The angel was flipping through a Jane Austen novel, wearing a pair of glasses Crowley was sure he didn’t need. 

“How’s the book?” Crowley asked, slowly dragging himself into consciousness.

“A good read. How’s the hangover?”

“It was splitting, until I miracled it away. Still have a lingering taste of regret and shame, though.”

“I should’ve expected that.”

“Oh, angel.” Crowley said, propping himself up on his elbows. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk. Or made you stay.”

“I don’t mind the staying. The drunkenness I could’ve done without.” Aziraphale folded over his bookmark and placed his book on the bedside table. “But I’m worried about you, Crowley. I really am.”

“I’m just done with it all, you know?” Crowley rolled onto his back, spreading his arms across the bed. This meant throwing one across Aziraphale’s torso. “The whole bloody business. I mean really, why are we even doing it? The tempting, and the miracles, and the whole lot. What’s the point?”

“The point is trying to keep humans on the right track. Or, the wrong track for you, I suppose.”

“But they already do that enough by themselves! There’s lots of good humans, and lots of bad ones, and everybody else is solidly in the middle. Back in the beginning, I felt like we had a purpose, a meaning to it all. The humans were just getting started, they needed guidance. But now, they’ve got it under control, and everything we do seems menial in comparison.”

“It’s all according to the ineffable plan.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Ineffable. Indescribable. God playing Their game with us all. Do you never doubt?”

“It’s not in my job to doubt.”

“Eh. That’s true. Doubting was what caused me to fall in the first place. Well, that and a whole bunch of other things. But late at night, when you’re up alone, listening to the sounds of the city, you never wonder just what exactly it is you’re doing here? And why They’ve kept you on earth for this long, even though half of the paperwork you submit is things the humans did themselves?”

“I mean, I have thought about it, of course. But I don’t know what we could do about it.” 

“We could leave.” Crowley sat up, taking Aziraphale’s hands into his own. He was getting excited. “Take to the stars, see what else is out there. I mean, there’s bound to be lots of life. Hell, I built most of it!”

“You did?”

“Before I fell. We could bounce from planet to planet, star system to star system, seeing everything the universe has to offer. Who’s going to stop us? The rest of the solar system’s out of their jurisdiction. We could see everything. You and me. Wouldn’t that be spectacular?”

“It would, but… why do you keep running away from your problems? The earth is a fine planet as it is, and you’ve got friends! Why are you so desperate to escape it all?”

“Because, I’m tired, angel. I’m tired of doing this again and again and again, of making friends and watching them die, of tempting people even though I know it won’t make a difference in the long run. There’s too many of them now for it to matter anyway. I’m just tired.” Crowley pressed his forehead to Aziraphale’s. God, he wanted to kiss him. Wait, hold on. He wanted to kiss him. Not just bone him like he wanted to do to everybody else at the party. Crowley wanted to cradle Aziraphale’s face in his hands as he kissed him deeply, as they ran off together into the light of another star. 

At that moment, Crowley realized something important. It was more than just a carnal lust he felt for the angel. This… this was love. 

Well, that was new. Even though it had clearly been rooted there for quite some time, and needed just a bit of shoveling to dig up. “Run away with me.”

“I can’t do that, Crowley. I’m not going to abandon these people. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities, just because I don’t quite understand why I’m doing them. I’m not doing this because of what upstairs says, I’m doing it because I believe in the humans. I believe in their ability to be good, to usher in a better world. It’s their humanity that keeps the world turning. And I’m not going to leave them.” 

“You never did explain last night why you were so upset with me wanting to sleep through the century.”

“Well, first of all, I don’t want to do all of your paperwork.” Aziraphale chuckled, but his heart wasn’t in it. “But really, I was upset because I couldn’t see your reason in it. In why you would leave to sleep for ninety years, with barely an explanation. If you do decide to do it, I won’t stop you, it’s your life. But I won’t like it.”

“Would you miss me?”

“Yes. I suppose I would.”

Before he even knew what he was doing, Crowley had pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s. He quickly realized that this was probably not the best choice of actions, and drew back. 

Aziraphale was frozen. “Oh, my dear lord.”

“Jesus, angel, I’m sorry.” Crowley stood anxiously. “I… I should probably go, right?” 

“This is your room, but yes, it might be for the best if you leave.” 

“Right. Yeah. Of course. I’m sorry.” 

Miracling his shoes on, Crowley ran down the stairs and had his carriage brought around. He didn’t even bother saying goodbye to the hosts, but he didn’t actually know them, so it wasn’t much of a loss. He had his driver ride away as fast as possible, using every ounce of control in his body not to look back. 

—————

Crowley was a beacon of regret. 

How could he have fallen in love with the angel? Sure, they had met up time and time again throughout the centuries, checking up on each other, usually going out for lunch, but there was nothing that explained when or why it could have happened. It had been such a slow descent, like the growth of a forest, that Crowley hadn’t been able to see the trees until now. 

And, instantly, he had to ruin it. The ideal plan would have been to wine and dine the angel, to spend more time with him, to let him know slowly. But instead, he listened to his heart instead of his brain, and he kissed him. It was a nice enough kiss. Short. Crowley wished it could’ve been longer, but that was on him. He should’ve planned this. Should’ve realized it earlier. 

Crowley spent several hours pacing around his house. When he lost interest in that, he paced around his greenhouse. The plants seemed to shiver, knowing that Crowley wasn’t in the best of moods. When he lost interest in the greenhouse, he paced the gardens. By that point, it was the next day. 

Finally, sweaty and burnt-out, Crowley sat down at his desk and picked up his pen. 

_Aziraphale,_ He knew this one had to be more formal. 

_I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve been an idiot. A complete and utter dunce. A blind fool. Because it has taken me this long to realize that I am, in fact, in love with you._

_Before you ask, no, I did not know that demons could feel love either. But when I examine my feelings towards you, I know it can be nothing but. Against everything I was told as a demon, I have not only had contact with an angel, but have had enough contact to fall in love with one. I am a bloody rubbish demon. You were right on that one._

_I realize that you probably do not harbor the same feelings for me. In fact, I expect you not to. And I have come to terms with that. I am what you are supposed to fight against. I’m what you are supposed to hate. Though I hope we have become friends over this time, and you don’t hate me, I don’t expect you to love me._

_I am still going to take my 90 year nap. I swear, it’s not out of embarrassment. As I’ve said, I just want to skip this century. I won’t ask you to water my plants, or keep an eye on my house, since you probably don’t want any more contact with me. And that’s alright. I’ll respect your wishes._

_I’m sorry about everything, angel. But most of all, I’m sorry I messed up the most important friendship in my life._

_Yours,_

Crowley signed his name with a lack of the usual flair. He should’ve just given it to his butler to mail. But it didn’t feel right, to just send it away and sleep without any resolution. So instead, he stuck it into his jacket pocket, and continued his mindless walk around his house. 

Chances were, he wouldn’t see Aziraphale again. The angel had probably gone back to London, to his bookshop. His business was important and all. Crowley regretted not visiting more often. It was a nice little bookshop, even if it wasn’t quite to Crowley’s tastes. 

Crowley had never been in love before. It was odd. He doubted any demon had ever been in love before. But demons had pretty much the same emotions as humans, just in different doses. And right now, thinking about the angel, he was getting a nice big kick to the chest with love. 

Why couldn’t it have been a human he fell in love with? Sure, humans wither and die, but at least they’re not angels. They don’t have the moral responsibility to fight you at every turn. They’re not constantly trying to thwart your wiles, or convince you that oh, you must try raw oysters. Nobody wants to willingly eat raw oysters. They were nasty. Humans were also fairly easygoing when it came to revelations of love. 

Crowley had to do something. He couldn’t keep pacing here, he’d end up wearing a hole in the floor. He threw on a jacket and walked outside, unsure of where he was going. It was midday, so Crowley made his way into town. He pretended to be interested in the products of a few shopkeepers, and gave a group of children a coin to spend on candy. It wasn’t nice, candy was unhealthy. At least, that was what Crowley told himself. 

As he walked back to his house, he saw a white carriage drawn by a white horse. The carriage slowed beside him, revealing Aziraphale to be sitting inside. 

“Angel. Nice carriage.” Crowley said, trying his best to avoid eye contact. He continued walking, the carriage keeping up a slow pace to match him. 

“We have to talk.”

“Nah. Never really liked the whole ‘talking’ thing.” A massive lie. Crowley loved to talk. He did it all the time. Even when there weren’t others around, Crowley was constantly compelled to talk. 

“I only want to talk about what happened the other night.”

Crowley finally stopped, the carriage mirroring him. He climbed up the side, sticking his head into the window. “Nothing happened. I just got a bit carried away, is all.”

“Carried away? Crowley, you kissed me!” 

“I’m aware of that! It was a heat-of-the-moment decision! Seemed like a good idea at the time!” Crowley jumped off the carriage, and began walking in the other direction. “I’m sorry if it offended you.” 

“It isn’t- Crowley, stop walking away!” 

Crowley stopped in his tracks. “What is it?”

“If it had been anyone else in that bed, anyone at all, would you have kissed them?”

Honestly? No. The conversation wouldn’t have even gotten that far if it had been anybody else. But he didn’t want to scare the angel away. “I don’t know. There wasn’t anyone else, it was just you, and me, and I kissed you, and that’s it. Now, we’ve both clearly got places to be, so I’ll be going.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale yelled, making him stop again. Before Crowley could yell something that could be construed as rude, Aziraphale said, “Isn’t your house the other way?”

It was, but Crowley really did not want to have to awkwardly walk beside the angel’s carriage for any longer than he had to. Or, even worse, have Aziraphale offer him a ride. “I’m taking the long way round. Besides, how do you know where my house is?”

“I saw you pacing around it when I drove by yesterday.” Of course he did. “Would you like a ride?”

“Absolutely not. I’d much rather the walk, thank you very much.” 

“It’s almost three miles.”

“I’m aware.” Something struck him that he hadn’t been able to think about earlier due to the whirlwind of emotions. “What are you still doing out here? Don’t you have a bookshop to run?”

“I’ve been staying with some friends. Had to perform a miracle in the Lakes District, so I figured I’d stop in on the way back. Are you certain you don’t want a ride?”

Crowley sighed. “Fine.” He walked back to the carriage and climbed in, sitting across from Aziraphale. “Why is this whole thing white? It’s garish.”

“I’m trying to go for a theme. And it’s not white, it’s cream.” Aziraphale signaled for the driver to begin again, and they were soon speeding off towards Crowley’s house. “It matches my clothes.”

“I had noticed that, yes.” Crowley stared out the window, trying his hardest to avoid looking at the angel. 

“So. Are you still planning to do it?”

“Do what?”

“You know what, Crowley. To sleep through the rest of the century.” 

“I’m thinking about it. It’s… I just need time, angel. Six thousand years of non-stop living, you get tired. I need to recharge. Regardless of whether or not you think it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t.” Aziraphale paused. “But I’ll do all of your paperwork, and plant-watering and whatnot while you’re asleep. I don’t want to see you getting in trouble over something so absurd.”

Crowley felt as though a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. “I appreciate it. Should I thank you?”

“Better not. I don’t want heaven or hell catching on. But you should know I really don’t approve.”

“I know you don’t. I know I do lots of things you don’t approve of. Existing, for one.”

Aziraphale frowned deeply. “Wherever did you get that idea?”

“Well, demon, angel, eternal feud, you know. That sort of thing.”

“Crowley, you can’t help who you are. Even if you are a demon, I’m still glad you exist.” They were getting dangerously close to talking about their feelings. “You keep me on my toes. Even if you won’t be, for the rest of the century.”

“And you’ll miss me.” It wasn’t a question this time. It was a fact. 

“Yes. I won’t have anyone to thwart. Or have tea with from time to time.”

“Ah, you’ll find someone else. You’re charming, you can make friends quickly.” 

Aziraphale had turned a light shade of pink. “I don’t know about charming.”

“But you are.” Crowley turned to face Aziraphale, gazing into the angel’s eyes. Even though Aziraphale couldn’t tell through the sunglasses. “You’re fantastically charming. To me, anyway.”

“Oh. I’m flattered.” The angel was visibly flustered. Crowley felt the sudden urge to kiss him again, to cross the small distance of the carriage and sit on his lap and kiss him until the cows came home. But he knew that would probably end poorly. 

As much as it tore him to do so, Crowley returned his gaze to the window, occasionally sneaking a glance at Aziraphale. The angel seemed to be doing much the same, and they spent nearly the whole ride back in silence. 

“Here we are, then.” Aziraphale said, as they drove up Crowley’s drive. 

“Yes. Right. Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

“You’ll come by the bookshop? Unless you’re planning on going right to sleep.”

“I will. I promise, I will.” Normally, one should not trust the promise made by a demon. They were almost always broken. But not with Crowley. His promises, you knew you could keep. Crowley jumped out of the carriage, feet crunching on the gravel. “Goodbye, Angel.”

“Goodbye. It sounds awfully final.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll see me again.” Crowley grinned, walking backwards towards his door. “Why, by the time I get to sleep, you’ll be glad to be rid of me.”

Aziraphale had opened his mouth to say something, but Crowley didn’t hear. He was already walking in the opposite direction, as fast as he could without having to actually run. He felt almost as though someone had punched him in the gut. 

What he should have done was made his move. Crowley should have told the angel how he felt right then and there, in that carriage. But he was scared. Desperately scared, scared of losing Aziraphale, of being humiliated, of all these centuries of friendship being for nothing. Once inside, Crowley mentally kicked himself. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. 

The sun was just setting outside, but Crowley decided to go to bed early. It would be practice. But he couldn’t sleep for too long. He had made a promise to Aziraphale, one that he wasn’t going to break. 

—————

Crowley rapped on the door to Aziraphale’s bookshop. The signs on the door said that it was closed, and gave an incomprehensible list of hours in which it was normally open. But Crowley never really paid attention to things like that. Besides, it wasn’t like the angel was going to turn him away. They were friends, or at least something adjacent. 

It was a few days after the carriage incident. Crowley was torn, in that he hoped that the kiss would never be mentioned again, while also desperately wanting to kiss Aziraphale. It was a painful state of limbo, and Crowley tried pushing his emotions to the side when he saw Aziraphale approach the door. 

“Crowley! How good to see you, dear boy.” Aziraphale said, as he opened the door. He was beaming, clearly pleased at this turn of events. “I wasn’t quite sure you’d come.”

“Oh, ye of little faith. I told you I’d visit.” Crowley stepped inside, examining the bookshop. “Are there more books here than the last time I visited?”

“There are. I’ve expanded quite a bit, you see. Made some purchases. Though I worry I’m going to run out of space on the shelves! Now, will you be staying for tea?”

“Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble.” Not like he should’ve cared if it was trouble. He was a demon. It was his job to cause trouble. But maybe not right now. 

“Right. Well, come on through to the back.” Aziraphale shepherded Crowley into the back room, where there was a couch and several chairs, each covered in books. With a wave of Aziraphale’s hand, the books were gone. A crashing sound came from within the shop, and Aziraphale frowned. “I thought there was room there. Oh, well.” 

Crowley sat on the couch, surprised by how comfortable it was. Most of the couches in Crowley’s house were there for their looks only, comfort being disregarded. “Is business good?”

“Truth be told, I don’t do much in the way of business. This whole thing is really just a front to house my collection.” 

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Really? How many books do you have?”

“Hundreds, by this point.” Aziraphale sat in a chair across from Crowley. After a moment, he miracled up a spread of tea and biscuits. “I’m a bit worried, though, that they might consider it gluttony or greed or what have you.” 

“I really don’t think they’ll care. More important things to worry about than an angel who likes books.”

“I hope so. I’ve put a lot of work into this bookshop, I’d hate to see it go to waste.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Crowley said, sitting back with his cup of tea. The couch really was comfortable. 

“So, what do you think? I know you’ve been here before, but I’ve really gotten it fleshed out now.”

“It’s nice.” Crowley realized that that was a very lame compliment. “It’s very you. Warm and comfortable.”

“That’s very kind of you to say.”

“I’m not-“

“Crowley, please, just take the compliment.” Aziraphale’s voice was tinged with impatience, alongside something else. It seemed like it might’ve been sadness. 

“Alright, then.” Crowley put his cup on the table, standing. “I should probably be going.”

“But you’ve only just got here.”

True. It was too early to be running away from his problems. Crowley sat back down. He leaned back against the couch, throwing an arm over the back of it. 

“How was the ride?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Fine.”

“How long did it take you?”

“A few hours.”

“Will you be staying the night?” 

The question made Crowley’s stomach jump. He knew Aziraphale hadn’t meant it that way, even though he sorely wished he had. “At an inn down the road.”

“You can stay here, if you’d like. I don’t really sleep, but I’ve got a bed you can use.”

Crowley’s heart was screaming. “I couldn’t put you out like that.”

“It’s no trouble. Besides, I know you don’t like sleeping at inns.” 

It was true. He wasn’t fond of sleeping in the same bed that hundreds of random strangers had slept in. “If you’re sure.”

“Of course. You’re my… associate. You’re welcome to stay over whenever you need to.”

“You know, you can probably say that we’re friends by now. I think we know that She’s not going to smite us or anything.” 

“I’d just rather be safe than sorry. It’s nothing against you. You are supposed to be my mortal enemy, after all.”

“So I keep being reminded. We’re really not so different, you and I. And remember, I was an angel once too.”

“Yes, but I’m still an angel. You’re not.”

Crowley sighed. He focused his attention on his tea. His reflection stared up at him, looking slightly miserable. “I’m aware of that.” 

Aziraphale paused. “I’m sorry. That was a low blow.”

They fell into an awkward silence. It wasn’t the first time a silence like that had happened, and certainly wouldn’t be the last. Crowley was contemplating leaving, when Aziraphale finally spoke. 

“Do you have any plans for dinner?”

“Not really. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s a quaint little place nearby that I’ve been just dying to try. Perhaps you could come with me.”

“Perhaps I could.”

—————

Dinner, naturally, led to drinks, and drinks led to the two of them getting quite drunk, and politely asked to leave the first four pubs they visited before finally getting the hint and going home. 

“Really, I just don’t see the point!” Crowley said, swinging a wine bottle around wildly. “Every single person I talk to is like oh, why don’t you marry my rich and eligible cousin, or my neighbor, or my dear friend? Like, I’m not going to a party to find a life companion, I’m just trying to find someone to do it, no questions asked, who’ll never talk about it again after the morning.”

“Oh, I know. Everyone keeps trying to marry me off to their sisters, and I’m like excuse me! I’m not interested!” Aziraphale was sitting on the other end of the couch beside Crowley. He, at least, had chosen to drink out of a wine glass. 

“Besides, I’ve already got myself a life companion who more than keeps me on my toes.”

“Who?”

“You, silly.”

“Me?” Aziraphale spluttered, “But we’re not married!”

“I’m not talking about marriage! I’m talking about, like, a lifelong companionship. Two people who know each other really well, and have for years. I mean really, angel, six thousand years, I think I know you better than almost anyone.”

“Oh really? Then tell me, what’s my favorite season?”

“Fall. You like it because you like how the leaves change color, and the smell of the rain, and how shops finally start selling the necessary ingredients for cocoa, even though you don’t actually have to buy it.” Crowley leaned against Aziraphale’s side. “Face it, angel. I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Six thousand years… I suppose we really are life companions. Companions feels oddly personal, though. As if we were elderly dogs.” 

“What’s stopping dogs from being lifelong friends? Dogs, or geese, or bears, or whatever.” Crowley yawned. He set the bottle on the small table beside the couch, and laid down with his head in Aziraphale’s lap. “I’m just going to take a quick nap.”

“We were in the middle of a conversation!”

“It tapered off! Besides, I’m tired, and your couch is comfortable. Just wake me up when your legs fall asleep.”

“Crowley, you know, I have a bed for you to sleep in.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been one for the conventional-“ He stopped abruptly, distracted by something he was currently feeling underneath his head. Was it really… no, it couldn’t have been. For angels to even have the proper equipment, they would’ve had to will it into existence. Which meant… “Is that what I think it is?”

“What? No, I… no, definitely not.” Aziraphale was a terrible liar when he was drunk. He wriggled in his seat, using a hand to cover up his crotch. “The fact you would even insinuate-“

“No, that’s definitely your penis. Do I turn you on, angel?”

“Shut up. We’re drunk. It happens sometimes.”

“I mean, the fact that you have anything set up down there is a surprise to me. How much action do you get?”

“None of your business how much action I’m getting!”

“But you haven’t denied it. I turn you on. Ha! Imagine that.” Crowley bopped Aziraphale’s nose with his finger. 

“Crowley, perhaps it’s time for you to go to bed.” Aziraphale’s voice was nearing anger. 

“Wouldn’t you like to come with me?”

“No. Just because you get horny when you get drunk doesn’t mean I’m going to bed with you.” 

Crowley sat up. He carefully undid the cravate from around Aziraphale’s neck, before undoing the angel’s top button. “How do you know I’m just horny? Maybe I’m genuinely into you.”

“Because, you’re a demon. You’re not capable of emotions like that.”

“Really. Now, that’s unfortunate. It means that I probably shouldn’t want to do this.” 

Crowley leaned in, pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s. And, against all odds, Aziraphale kissed back. Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hand, and he could feel the angel’s hand moving around to the crook of his neck. Not only was the angel kissing back, he was into it. It was slower, much slower than the first time, and Crowley was glad for it. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Aziraphale said, when Crowley finally pulled away. Well, it was more of a mutual decision. 

“I’m aware. But God, I want you.”

“We can’t do this. Go to bed.”

The situation had quickly spiraled out of Crowley’s control. “Please, angel, I…”

“Go to bed, Crowley.” His voice was soft yet stern. Crowley knew then that Aziraphale wasn’t going to change his mind. 

Crowley stood, suddenly feeling as though his body had been filled with lead. “Alright, then. I’ll leave in the morning.”

“Yes, I think that might be for the best.” 

“I…” Part of him wanted to say how he really felt. To just let it spill, regardless of the consequences. But he had already pushed too far, and he knew that with anything more, he would risk scaring Aziraphale away. “Never mind.” 

Crowley walked up the stairs, fell into bed, and spent the rest of his night tossing and turning, wallowing in his own misery. Sleep narrowly evaded him, as though something other than his own emotions were stopping him from doing so. 

Crowley decided, as he stared at one particular spot in the ceiling, that this was it. As soon as he got home, he would be putting on his most comfortable pajamas and sleeping through the rest of the century. It probably wasn’t the best method of dealing with his problems, but he didn’t really care. He had been putting it off for too long, all because he couldn’t stand the thought of going to sleep without saying goodbye to the angel. 

Really, he should never have gotten this attached in the first place. Crowley shouldn’t have even spoken to Aziraphale. But seeing the angel in the garden had piqued his interest, and as soon as he had met him, he knew that they’d be friends. And as time went by, he just sort of fell in love. It was the angel’s fault, for being so loveable. Now, Crowley feared he had ruined it. 

In his defense, Aziraphale had kissed back. 

In the morning, Crowley rolled out of bed, his head aching. This time, he didn’t miracle it away. He walked downstairs, not really knowing what to expect. 

Aziraphale was still sitting in the same spot, a book sitting in his lap. However, against all odds, Aziraphale was napping. He snored quietly, his head lolling to one side. 

“Angel.” Crowley whispered. He didn’t really want to wake him up. “Angel, I’ve got to go.”

Aziraphale didn’t wake. Crowley smiled slightly, and without thinking, he reached out and stroked Aziraphale’s cheek. Aziraphale was always so warm. 

“Goodbye. I’ll see you… well, I’ll see you later. If you ever want to speak to me again.” He kissed the top of Aziraphale’s head. The angel’s golden locks tickled his lips, and he wished he had time to get to know the feeling better. “Love you.”

—————

The regret was finally starting to dissipate by the time Crowley got home. It was still there, a lingering feeling that he had left a part of himself behind, but at least it wasn’t so bad now. He was more focused on determining which set of pajamas would be the most comfortable to spend a century in. Or perhaps he should wake up halfway through to change and freshen up a bit. Yes, that would probably work. He decided on a simple-looking linen nightgown, one that he had worn enough to have gotten used to. 

Only, when he laid down to sleep, he found that he couldn’t. Once again, sleep was just out of arm’s reach. He tried every position imaginable, and even some unimaginable to the human mind, and still nothing. He then tried moving to the wall, and then the ceiling. Nothing. 

Normally, when Crowley was about to go into a state of hibernation like this, it took no more than a few minutes to fall asleep. His body knew that he was going to be out for a while, and thus would promptly kick into sleep. Evidently, this wasn’t going to happen this time. 

He mashed his face into his pillow, letting out a string of blessings and expletives. Then, he threw the pillow at the wall. This did nothing, other than relieve a bit of Crowley’s anger at himself. It didn’t help him get to sleep. 

After several hours of trying and failing, Crowley got up. He wandered through his house and into his kitchen, searching through the cupboards for something edible. He then remembered that he didn’t really care for eating, and instead simply returned to his room. He sat down heavily at his desk chair, feeling defeated. 

Then, something caught his eye. It was the letter Crowley had been penning to Aziraphale, the one he kept rewriting. He had planned on sending it before he fell asleep, but clearly it had slipped his mind. He scanned over it again. No, it wasn’t right. Not anymore. He picked up a pen, and started again. 

_Angel,_ he began. It seemed more appropriate this time, somehow. 

_So, I kissed you again. You can probably guess by now what that means. And I’m surprised about it too. I didn’t expect any of this to happen, nor did I plan to kiss you. But I did, twice, and I do not regret it. If you may permit me to say it, you have excellent lips._

_That does not mean I am entirely without regret. I regret not being able to communicate my feelings to you in words, face to face. I regret not staying, not explaining myself in the morning, when we were both sober and not comfortably drunk. Most of all, I regret not being able to kiss you without the haze of alcohol to rack up my courage. In that, I am a coward._

_You are not a fool, Aziraphale. I know you know what I mean with all of this. What I am too cowardly to say out loud. But I hope this letter will compensate, and that it will act as my apology for running off. Next time, I promise I will stay. And we can talk about what this means, for me and for the both of us._

_Because I must tell you that I am quite in love with you. And though there is every chance you do not bear the same sentiments, I know I could not stand it if I could never speak to you again. I would rather be awkward friends than be nothing at all._

_I love you, Angel._

_Best regards, Crowley._

Crowley set his pen down, examining his work. He realized that there were tears in his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away, even though there was nobody there to see his moment of weakness. He folded up the letter, slipping it into an envelope, and went to find his butler to send it. However, his butler found him first. 

Apparently, there was someone there to see him, and they would not listen to the butler’s hints blatantly telling them to go away. Crowley felt hope spark in his chest, and he dashed down to his parlor, miracling a proper outfit on the way. Sure enough, there was Aziraphale, sitting on Crowley’s couch. He stood, once he saw Crowley walk in. 

“Aziraphale, what are you doing here?” Crowley asked. He hastily shoved the letter into his pocket. 

“I’m not quite sure, to be honest. I just didn’t want us to leave off the way we did. I effectively threw you out, and that was rude. So I think, I think I’m here to apologize.”

“It’s not your fault. We were both drunk, and I seemed to think that that somehow removed all barriers between us. I took advantage-“

“That’s the problem, though. Because, in my inebriated state, I wanted you to kiss me. And, had I been slightly more drunk, I don’t think it would’ve stopped there.” Aziraphale was now talking very fast, stumbling over his words. “But we simply cannot do this, Crowley.”

“Why? Why not? I mean really, what’s stopping us from just going for it? Who’s to say who I can’t…” He felt the word he was looking for stick in his throat. Crowley desperately wanted to say it, but it just wouldn’t come out. “...associate with!”

“It’s part of Their ineffable plan! For angels and demons to be enemies. I’m not any happier with it than you are.”

“But, but, have you ever heard Them say that? Has the big man upstairs ever told us, in Their own words, that it’s wrong?”

“Well, no, but our sides, it’s what they believe.” 

Crowley went up to Aziraphale, grabbing him by the lapels and pulling him close. “Screw our sides. I mean really, what’s the point? Fighting for eternity when we’re not actually that different. I’m so tired of following these absurd rules.” 

“I know you are. But I can’t afford to lose all I’ve got. And Hell, if they ever found out you wanted to rebel, I can only imagine what they’d do to you.”

“I don’t care. Not anymore. I just want to live my life without someone telling me what to do.” It took all of Crowley’s self-control not to lean down and kiss him right then and there. He was hyperaware of the angel’s hand on his chest, of the fact that despite everything, Aziraphale hadn’t moved away. 

“We just can’t, Crowley. We’re not humans. We don’t have the ability to have free will.” 

Crowley released the angel’s lapel. He reached into his own coat pocket, pulling out the letter. He took Aziraphale’s hand and pressed the letter into his palm, before closing Aziraphale’s fingers around it. “Read this.” He muttered. “I was going to send it to you, since I didn’t expect to see you again. But I want you to read it. It doesn’t have to be here and now, but at some point. Just humor me with it. Alright?”

Aziraphale nodded wordlessly, his eyes locked with Crowley’s. There was an air of uncertainty that floated between them, and Crowley didn’t quite know if Aziraphale was going to kiss him, slap him, or just leave. Aziraphale folded the letter neatly into one of his jacket pockets, before clearing his throat. 

“I ought to be going, then.” Aziraphale said, after a moment. 

“It’s a long ride back, I have the room if-“

“No, I… I’ve got business in the morning.” He looked anxious to leave. “I’ll see myself out. Sleep well, my dear.” 

And with that, the angel was gone. Crowley felt like a part of his soul had left with him. He mouthed a silent “thank you,” one that Aziraphale would never hear. 

Maybe it was wrong to give Aziraphale the letter. Maybe he should’ve just kept it to himself, to look at when he felt the most in despair. But he knew that if he hadn’t given him the letter, he might never have been able to get his sentiment across. He was scared, completely terrified of the consequences should anyone else find out the letter’s contents. However, Aziraphale was trustworthy. If he was smart, he would burn the letter after reading it, destroying the evidence of Crowley’s weakness. 

Crowley returned to his room, falling into bed and passing quickly into sleep. He dreamed of the end times. He saw the four horsemen riding, and a child with bright red eyes, and a carriage without a horse that was in flames. And then, he saw the bookshop. Aziraphale’s bookshop, completely consumed by fire. In his dream, Crowley saw himself running into the shop. He screamed, but no noise came out. 

Crowley awoke in a cold sweat to someone shaking his shoulder. 

“Crowley, are you alright?” Said Aziraphale. The angel sat on the edge of Crowley’s bed, expression filled with concern. “You were screaming in your sleep.”

“Angel.” Crowley buried his face into Aziraphale’s chest. He realized now that he had been crying, and was now leaving tear stains on the angel’s shirt. He’d have to deal with that later. “You’re here.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Crowley shook his head. “I think I just saw the end times. I’d rather not think about that.” 

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley, doing his best to comfort him. “That’s alright. You don’t have to.”

Taking a deep breath, Crowley asked, “Did you read my letter?”

“I did.”

“Did you burn it?”

“No, I’ve got it in my pocket here. Should I have?”

“I just don’t want anyone else finding out. I mean, if you’re keeping it to use for, I don’t know, blackmail or something, I won’t stop you, but I’m not going to be happy about it.”

“I’m not going to blackmail you, Crowley. I just wanted to keep it, is all.” Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s back soothingly. 

“How long have I been out?”

“About a week. I would’ve come by earlier, but I didn’t quite know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, angel. I’m just glad you’re here.” Crowley sighed into Aziraphale’s chest. He could smell the angel’s cologne, distinctly different from his own scent. “Will you stay?”

“If you want. Not for the rest of the century, of course, but for a while.”

“I don’t need the rest of the century. I just need right now.” 

“That’s alright, then. Now, scootch over.”

Crowley slid over, allowing for Aziraphale to properly climb into bed beside him. Crowley made sure to give Aziraphale ample room, in an effort to make sure the angel wasn’t uncomfortable. “I don’t normally have dreams like that. I think… I think it was the future. The apocalypse. And your bookshop, it was burning.” 

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “Do you think it was some sort of a premonition?”

“I have no idea. Could’ve just been a nightmare. Probably was. Hopefully.” Crowley could feel his breathing quicken, anxiety rising within him. “Aziraphale, will you hold me?” 

“Of course, my dear.” Aziraphale put his arms around Crowley, and Crowley did much the same. Crowley wrapped his whole body around Aziraphale’s, holding on for dear life. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not normally like this. I’d just rather not be alone right now.”

“I understand. Really, I do. But Crowley, tell me, is what you said in the letter true?”

“Every word. And I understand if it makes you uncomfortable, and if you don’t want to see me after this…”

“I don’t want that. You’re dear to me. I could never just push you away like that.” 

“But you don’t feel the same.”

Aziraphale paused. “I don’t know. I don’t really think I even considered it, seeing how we’re on different sides. And I know that to pursue something… more would be dangerous.”

“So, what, do you think we should keep things the way they are?”

“I suppose. For now, at least. I’d like to remain friends, if that’s possible.”

“It is. Yeah.” Crowley pulled out of the embrace just enough to see Aziraphale’s face. Even just seeing Aziraphale here, so close to him, made his heart swell with joy. “We could just say screw it. Jump off to another planet together, leave our rat bastard bosses behind. Or even just stay here, consequences be damned. They haven’t noticed our friendship so far, who’s going to know if we decide to get to know each other more intimately? I want to be with you. It’s not a crime.” 

“The ineffable plan-“ 

“The ineffable plan brought us together! Really, if They didn’t want us consorting, They’d have let us know by now.” Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hands. “Angel, I don’t care about any bloody plans. All I care about is you.” 

Aziraphale pressed his forehead to Crowley’s. “If Hell found out, they’d destroy you.”

“I’ll figure it out. I’ll… I’ll come up with something. Whatever I have to. I just want to be with you.” 

“I know, my dear. But Crowley-“

Crowley kissed him, cutting him off. It was a heated, frantic kiss, and Aziraphale quickly pulled away. 

“Crowley!” He protested, though his heart clearly wasn’t in it. “We can’t-”

Crowley kissed along Aziraphale’s jaw and down the angel’s neck. Aziraphale sighed, closing his eyes. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale muttered again, “Crowley…” His voice tapered off. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” Crowley breathed. 

“No. No, I… I want this.” Aziraphale groaned as Crowley nipped at his neck. “God, I want you.” 

“Then you can have me.”

\---------

Crowley awoke to movement. He opened his eyes a crack, peering out into the room. The sun was just rising, painting a golden glow across the room. And across the form of Aziraphale, who was currently pulling his pants on. He was clearly attempting to be quiet, but failed when he tripped and fell backwards into bed.

“Angel,” Crowley muttered sleepily, “are you leaving?”

“I was, yes.” 

“Any particular reason why?”

“I can’t possibly stay here, Crowley. If anyone were to find out what we just did, I can’t imagine what they’d do to us.” _To you_ his eyes said. 

“Alright. If you think it’s for the best.”

“Why, would you like me to stay?”

“I’d love for you to stay. Heaven, you could stay forever if you liked. But it looks like that’s not going to happen.”

“I’m sorry, my dear. I really am.” 

Crowley sat up, putting a hand to Aziraphale’s wrist. He could feel the angel’s pulse, quick and erratic as his own. “Maybe we could do this again sometime.”

“Take me to dinner first.” A sparkle of mischief broke through the sorrow in Aziraphale’s expression. “Then we can talk.” He paused. “Are you still planning on sleeping through the rest of the century?”

The concept had admittedly slipped his mind during the previous night’s proceedings. “Was thinking about it, yeah. I mean, if you need me, I’ll be here.”

“I can’t promise to be here when you wake up.”

“I know. But when I do, I’ll take you out to that dinner. Anywhere you’d like. I promise.”

“It’s a deal, then.” 

Crowley brought Aziraphale’s hand up to his lips, kissing the knuckles. He desperately longed to touch him, to pull him back into bed and spend the next century just holding his angel. But he knew that that wasn’t going to happen. “Aziraphale, I-“

“Don’t.”

Crowley froze. “What?”

“Don’t say what you’re about to say. Because I know what it is, and I don’t want you to risk your life by saying it.”

“I don’t care if I’m risking my life. Not if it’s for you.”

“I know you don’t care, but I do! I don’t want your lot destroying you, because I care about you! And you should too.”

“Fine. Then just… reread my letter, if you won’t let me say it out loud.”

“I will. And just know that I know.”

“Do you feel the same?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Yes, I rather think I do. Against my own better judgement, of course. Which is making this whole conversation much harder than it needs to be.”

“Then, can you do one thing for me, before you go?”

“That depends on what it is.” 

“Kiss me.” 

The angel’s expression softened. “Well, that I can do.”

Aziraphale kissed him softly, gently pushing Crowley back so that he was laying down. Crowley ran a hand through Aziraphale’s hair, his fingers catching on the curls. It was certainly a good kiss to sleep on. 

“Good-night, my dear.” Aziraphale said as he pulled away. Crowley noted that at some point, the angel had miracled the rest of his clothes back on. “Sleep well.”

“I have a distinct feeling that I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> I MIGHT write a sequel though I’m not sure since I’m bad at anything with more than one chapter (I’m so sorry) so don’t expect one but know it may happen if I get the inspiration


End file.
